


i hate how i have to give titles to stories. is it not enough that i have written it? now i must name it as well?

by AU_Ruler



Series: city of wind, magic, and dawn [1]
Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991)
Genre: Flashback, Injury, Jealousy, Magic, Other, Pining, Whumptober 2020, but uses she/her pronouns, chicago's nonbinary, except morgana doesnt realize shes pining yet, magical healing, no.15, or even that she has a crush, tricksie shows up very briefly, which isnt really important or mentioned in this story but its a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:00:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27311557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AU_Ruler/pseuds/AU_Ruler
Summary: Chicago breaks her arm while showing off. Because of course her first break in over a year would be because she's feeling too self-confident and wants to show off for a friend by doing something she'd done a thousand times before.
Relationships: Morgana Macawber/Chicago Dahlia (oc), Morgana Macawber/self insert
Series: city of wind, magic, and dawn [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994014
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	i hate how i have to give titles to stories. is it not enough that i have written it? now i must name it as well?

There was a sigh. Then a warm paw pressed to her calf. Instinctively she closed her eyes. It was always a bit of an odd feeling. Warmth and taut pulling as the skin stitched itself back together. The feeling faded and she knew the wound was healed. Especially after she felt the paw smack her right at the place it'd just healed.

“How do you even do this?” Her twin asked. Chicago opened her eyes to see the fox shuffle back on her knees. A corner of her mouth twitched up and she shrugged.

“I don't know.”

The look she got in return was very much  _ not _ amused. Chicago sighed. She gave an awkward smile. “I didn't see the thorns.” Tricksie didn’t say anything, just rolled her eyes.

“I wasn't looking,” Chicago admitted.

“Of course you weren't.” Tricksie rolled her eyes. “What was so interesting instead?”

“There was a stream! With a small waterfall and a log over it,” Chicago said, smile as much in her eyes as it was her face. Again Tricksie rolled her eyes, though it was fonder.

They were thirteen and Chicago’s habit of adventuring wherever still got her in trouble and hurt like it did when they were little kids. Tricksie wasn't sure it ever wouldn't. Who knows, though. Maybe one day Chicago would get better. Maybe she'd hurt herself less.

For now Tricksie just held out a hand to pull Chicago to her feet.

The beam snapping surprised Chicago. It was weaker than she'd thought it was. She only had a moment to be disappointed in herself. Two decades of going into abandoned, condemned, and buildings being built, yet she still made the mistake. Her body plummeted with the splintered wood. The impact with the floor was hard.  _ Painful _ .

Pain flared up her right arm. Searing and hot. The pain reminded her of a surprisingly rare amount of times and she knew she'd broken it. Of course. She'd fallen directly on it. There was no way the bone survived. With a sigh she closed her eyes. A dull banging started in the back of her skull. Either she'd hit her head on the floor too or a piece of the wood had hit it on the way down. Perhaps both. But the headache kept her from hearing the feet coming toward her just as falling had kept her from hearing the noise of surprise from Morgana. The pain faded softly as she did.

She could feel the bone refuse, her skin stitching back together. Chicago kept her eyes shut. There was a place in her wrist that'd never healed correctly after she'd broken it two years prior. That healed as well. It felt strange but familiar. A return to home and memories of chocolate chip cookies. Yet different somehow. In a way she couldn’t name. It was a good way. “Tricksie?” Chicago murmured. Watching all those kids must’ve strengthened her healing magic. Because three years ago when she left, her twin hadn't been able to heal an old, poorly healed wound. Despite all the practice she got while they grew up, her healing had never been  _ that  _ powerful.

There was a noise above her. A sound that was distinctly  _ not _ Tricksie. Chicago threw off all the feelings of  _ safe _ and  _ home _ and forced her eyes open as she jolted up. Whoever healed her made a pained noise as their heads collided.

Black, curly hair in a bun shaped vaguely like a heart, two stripes of purple on each side. Black feathers that shone with a blue luster, colour shifting in the light if you looked close enough. A breath left Chicago. She let herself collapse back to the ground.  _ Morgana _ .

Above her was splintered wood. She closed her eyes. They'd been on the second floor of an old building and the floor had snapped right from under her. Red burned beneath her fur. Since she was a kid she'd done stuff like this. It's been  _ years _ since she'd been so careless.

Even more years since she showed off for someone. Because that's exactly what’d happened. Morgana was worried, watching as she walked further out onto the floor. But she'd simply done a half turn to look back at Morgana with a large grin. Of course the second she decided to be cocky and show off, the floor had to literally fall out from under her. 

When she opened her eyes to look at Morgana, the raven was frowning at her. Awkwardly Chicago smiled and sat up. “Sorry about that…”

Morgana looked away. Chicago's heart sunk. Yeah, she seemed pretty upset at her. “Let's head back to my house.”

Chicago nodded. Then a second after, “Okay.”

“So you have magic?” They'd barely made it in the house before Chicago asked Morgana the question she'd been kind of dreading. Within the first minute they'd known each other, she'd known Chicago wasn't magical. Not  _ born _ magical, at least. Other born witches tended to have almost a magical imprint. It wasn't something non-born magicals could see. As far as she could tell, not many of them could see it either. It was a skill learned through time and hardwork. Everything else was what let her know she wasn't a learned witch, either. The way she picked up crystal after crystal, frantically checking the description plates like the stone would explode if she grabbed the wrong one. How she'd smiled awkwardly when Morgana asked if she’d needed help and she'd mentioned that she had never gotten a crystal before. The simple explanation that it was for her twin’s birthday. She wanted the crystal to be extra special and was planning to put it on a chain as a necklace. It was incredibly sweet. Morgana couldn't do anything but help.

Even with that, knowing that Chicago wasn't a witch she decided to hide her magic. Previous encounters with non-magics told her it was the best. Even Darkwing had freaked out when she told him. (Though Launchpad hardly flinched.) In the four months she's known Chicago, she hadn't said anything. Or performed any major magic around her. Although she'd been planning to tell her at some point. ‘Some point’ just seemed to get pushed back further and further. Finally she'd been forced to. Chicago had broken her arm in two places with that fall.

“I do,” Morgana said with a nod.

“That's cool!” Chicago said, already going to the kitchen. “I’d like to do magic, but.” And she shrugged. Like she'd tried to do it before but it stood out of her reach. That was something to ask about. Later. For right now there was something else that pressed on her mind. An emotion she didn't recognize. Something foreign but familiar, a song on the tip of her tongue who's name kept escaping her. Earlier Chicago had whispered a name as she woke. It wasn't her's nor was it a name she recognized. And that bothered her inordinately. For no reason. None that she could think of, at least. Of course telling herself that didn't stop it.

“Who’s Tricksie?” Morgana asked as nonchalantly as she could. Chicago smiled immediately. So full of fondness it made Morgana’s heart clench strangely. Shut turned away to grab two mugs from a cabinet and a small pot from its downstairs neighbor. It was easier to start on the hot chocolate than examining what that look meant. Especially when she'd get the answer soon.

“She's my twin,” Chicago answered happily, proud and calm, like she didn't just restore Morgana’s oxygen intake in three words.

“So that's the name of the twin I've heard so much about?” Morgana turned from the stove briefly as she turned a burner to medium heat. Only to sigh as she spotted Chicago atop her counter. “Do you have to sit there?”

“Sorry, Morg,” Chicago shrugged with a highly unapologetic smile, “I'm gay.” It was a familiar response. The first time Chicago had been at her house and given it she'd internally stuttered. Her brain record-scratching at how casual she'd said it. For the second time that day. Earlier she'd shown Chicago Archie. To which her friend had responded with rather surprising positive enthusiasm. Apparently spiders were ‘friend shaped’. Morgana could definitely agree with that statement. Once milk was ready she added the chocolate mix.

“How did you know I had magic?” Morgana asked.

Since she’d met her, Chicago kept surprising her. Chicago moved her arm to examine it. The one she'd broken in the fall. “You healed me,” Chicago answered. Not a question, but a fact. One Morgana couldn't deny. Nor did she really want to.

“You say that like you've been healed before,” Morgana poured the chocolate into two mugs, adding two pinches of sugar and some chocolate syrup to each before she handed one to Chicago.

“Thanks,” Chicago smiled and took a sip of her drink. Immediately making a soft pained face afterward. A corner of Morgana’s beak pulled up in a smile as she tapped long fingernails against her mug.

“Of course,” Morgana said. “So, you've been healed before?”

“Ah, yeah,” Chicago said. “I got hurt a lot growing up and Tricksie always healed me.” She took another, smaller sip of her hot chocolate after blowing on it. “You know, I still find it pretty incredible that you make hot chocolate just like my twin does.”

“She's smart.” Morgana shrugged.

“Yeah she is,” Chicago agreed. “She's also how I knew you had magic. Tricksie’s a natural witch.”

“She is?” Morgana looked over at Chicago. Normally magicals were born in  _ families  _ of magicals. Meaning if one twin had, the other should too. Unless… It seemed rare, especially with her family of ‘absolutely no non-magicals allowed’, but perhaps their parents had been mixed. So one child inherited their magical parent’s magic and the other inherited the normal genes.

“Yeah!” Chicago said proudly. “She's really good at it, too. Most talented witch I know. The only witch I know, technically. Well,” She paused and gave Morgana a small smile. “before I met you.” There was no helping Morgana’s return smile.

“Her healing’s not as good as yours. Or, at least it wasn't when she healed me last. It'd been a while so when I felt my arm stitching back together I just figured it was her and all those kids made her use it so much she got more powerful.” Chicago shrugged a single shoulder with a huff of laughter.

“That must have been useful,” Morgana said, finally taking a sip from her own mug. The warm chocolate felt nice.

“It was,” Chicago laughed a little, in a way Morgana had never heard before. “Except I couldn't do anything in return. Not like she could.” She looked at her hand, turning it before putting it back on the green mug. “I don't have magic like her. All I could do was learn first aid and hope it was enough. Thankfully she didn't get hurt often. That was more my thing.”

“Are you good with first aid?” Morgana asked.

“Well, I haven't killed myself yet,” Chicago joked. She tapped absently at the mug. “Sorry I got hurt.”

“What?” Morgana blinked, suddenly confused. “Why are you apologizing?”

“You seemed really worried,” Chicago said with a shrug.

“A bit,” Morgana said. And she had been. Chicago was there, doing an almost catwalk turn on her heel, then suddenly she was gone. There was an awful crack. In the moment Morgana hadn't been sure if the noise had come from the wooden floor, Chicago hitting something on the first floor, or Chicago herself. It had been an awful moment.

Chicago patted Morgana’s shoulder before wrapping her hand back around the mug in her lap. There were no words. “I'm glad you feel better,” Morgana said.

“Thanks for healing me,” Chicago said. Briefly she moved her right wrist. “Seriously, my wrist feels better than it has in a few years.”

Morgana frowned. “I didn't realize your wrist broke too.”

“About two years ago. Fell out of a tree and landed directly on it,” Chicago said. “I treated it but it never did heal correctly. Until now.”

What? Morgana blinked. She hadn't meant to do that. She hadn't even known there were any injuries beside the arm. Apparently her magic had decided to act out, just a little, again. At least this time it was helpful. “... you're welcome,” Morgana said at length and took another sip of her cooling hot chocolate.


End file.
